


The Best Kind Of Correct

by ktbl



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games)
Genre: Blind Character, Breast Play, Established Relationship, F/M, Kinktober 2020, Sleepy Sex, Smut, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27126044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ktbl/pseuds/ktbl
Summary: Knowing his defenses are down, mornings are the preferred time for General Blade to rush and make an attack.Kenshi knows, and rolls with it anyway.-Kinktober 2020 Day 21, prompt: sleepy sex/breast play.
Relationships: Sonya Blade/Takahashi Kenshi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	The Best Kind Of Correct

He was tired, damn tired, no matter how much he didn’t want to be. He couldn’t put a finger on what had woken him; half the time he just knew he should be awake, and so he was. As it was now, Kenshi felt the dip in the mattress, a redistribution of weight, the tug and shift of the cotton sheet and blanket.

That’s what it was, then; she’d gotten up, and had come back to bed. Probably her footsteps in the hall, or on the floor coming back towards him. He reached forward until his fingers felt the warmth of her. His fingers dropped down to touch - bare skin, smooth but muscle beneath, curving gently under his hand. Arm. His hand slid down further towards her elbow, then moved forward, grazing against fuzzy cotton - still in her pajamas, then - and finding the slight round of her stomach. He hooked his fingers under the hem of her shirt, backs brushing against the warmth of her skin. He pulled her back towards him, until he could feel her braid beneath his lips.

“Morning.” Sonya’s warm voice broke slightly in a yawn. She pushed herself back against him so he could feel the whole of her, from the round of her shoulder to the ball of her foot, against his body. She was faintly cool from whatever she’d been doing, and he didn’t want to ride her mind to find out. What mattered was that she’d come back into bed with him. She wriggled again against him, her ass digging into his groin, and the half-there morning erection biology almost always demanded he sport when he woke up in her bed. Her chest vibrated with a small laugh at the contact. He closed a hand on her hip to hold her in place. He moved his mouth to her neck, kissing it lightly.

“Sleeping in, are you?”

“I don’t have to be in for a few hours.” She sounded satisfied, and he kissed her neck once more. She hadn’t showered, hadn’t gone running, still smelled like sleep. He caught a hand, feeling the soft fuzz of hair on the back, the bumps of tiny granules as he ran his fingers up her arm.

“Got the coffee started, then?”

“Forgot to get the machine set up last night.” She chuckled, and he grinned with satisfaction as she rolled over into him, beginning to run her hands through his hair and scratching gently through the stiff hairs of his short beard. He bent his head down to her, mouths meeting warm and loose. She made a noise of pleasure as he parted his lips, her tongue diving in possessively to slide against his. His hands skated down her shoulders and her sides, reaching for the hem of her tee shirt and pulling it up to spread his hands over her skin.

For all they’d done, as battered and scarred as they were, she still had stretches of perfectly smooth skin. He savored the contrast between her scars and old wounds and the untouched spaces. His fingers inched upwards along the curve of her ribs, feeling them under his fingertips, the quickening of her breaths as his fingers crept upwards towards the warmth of her breasts.

“I love you in the mornings,” she murmured, her own hands running down along his body over his shirt. Her fingers found the top of his sweatpants and slid in beneath the fabric. Her fingertips brushed against his hipbones, and he didn’t bother to control his response. Pleasure arced through them at the contact. He leaned into the touch, savoring the way her fingertips brushed over bone and scar tissue and the slight indent of her nails into his skin.

“Only in the mornings? You wound me.” He felt her snort, the soft exhale of breath that ran along his face. He took a sharp breath as her hand slid over his cock, palming him, squeezing possessively.

“Clearly not enough if you’re being this much of a smartass.” Her voice held the hint of a smile, the way the tiniest hint of her childhood accent reappeared in longer vowels, how it told her she was at ease. Her hand kept sliding over him and he groaned softly, one of his hands sliding up to cup her breast in his hand, thumb brushing over her nipple. She swallowed audibly, and he chuckled again, bending his head to her face and kissing her again, continuing to brush and tease her as she worked her own hand between his legs. He slid her shirt further up, feeling the fabric rumple up over his wrist, and then dropped down to draw her nipple into his mouth. His tongue circled it, and he heard her breathing hitch as it furled tightly against his tongue.

He was still tired, not fully awake, and he could tell that she was the same with the lazy movements of her hands, the easy way she let him move her. One of her hands wove into his hair, cupping the back of his skull as he spread the flat of his tongue against her nipple, tugged and licked. He could feel the tight wrinkles of her areola, the tautness of the skin around it, and squeezed gently with his hand before shifting, marking a path between her nipples with his tongue and blowing on it. She hissed, fingers tightening compulsively on his head, and he grinned as he drew her other nipple into his mouth, fingers gently stroking the curves of her breast, listening to the hitch in her breathing, the way she gently pushed into his hand.

“You’re asking for it,” Sonya muttered, barely loud enough to be heard. He arched his eyebrows, not bothering to open his eyes - what good would it do, anyway? - and she snorted once. Her breath stuttered and skipped again as he tugged gently with his teeth. Her hand seized between his legs, holding him tightly in her hand. “Watch yourself, Takahashi.” Without moving his head, he nuzzled into her breast again, sucking hard on it, and then grinned against her skin. She realized what she’d said, and made a staccato laugh. “Oh, fuck, you know what I mean.”

“I do.” He lifted his head up to catch her lips with his, still playing with her breasts, stroking and tracing designs over them. “I know I have distracted you when you don’t catch yourself.”

“I’m tired, and you’re definitely a fucking distraction,” she countered, working her hand in against his hipbones, down his thigh, fingernails grazing his skin. He groaned again, tipping his head back and away from her at the touch. It burned brightly, sending traceries of heat through every inch of his body. Without the fabric to deaden her touch, it was a hundred times more sensitive than even Sonya could imagine. She was careful with it, but she knew just how easily her hands and mouth could undo him.

“You’re the one who got out of bed to make coffee.” He peppered kisses down her neck, skipped over the fabric of her shirt, and resumed his attentions to her breasts, cupping them in his hands. They were warm, and overflowed his hands just right; she usually kept them tightly secured with a sports bra, but now he could get his hands on the soft mounds easily. He pressed his head into the valley between them, breathing in the warm cinnamon-citrus smell of her, coffee grinds and sweat and woman. It was addicting. He took several deep breaths, feeling her hand spread out on his thigh, fingers sweeping back and forth against him. “You could have waited until after.”

“Going to make me regret it, are you?”

“Maybe,” he said with half a smile, tilting his face up to her. Her fingers moved, settling over his shaft and closing around it. He shuddered and tipped his head downwards into her, breathing her in again, as she gripped him firmly. His ability to focus wavered as her hand wrapped around him, every fiber of his being suddenly honed in to her hand on his cock. He took a deep stuttering breath of his own. “Or you’re going to make me reconsider it.”

“Smart man.”

He reached for her again, working her shorts and underwear off in a few easy gestures, tossing them away. She threw a leg up over his hip, tilting towards him, and he chuckled as she wriggled closer. He trailed his fingertips up the muscle of her thigh, feeling her skin prickle as he inched upwards and inwards. She caught his face between her hands and kissed him, holding his head still as he worked his fingers at a snail’s pace, feeling the way her muscles rippled, the way her chest heaved with speedy, choppy breaths.

He brushed his fingers across her folds, feeling her tense and arch, the way her body pressed up against him as he did.

“Bastard,” she swore, as she pulled away. Her fingers dug into him, a little threatening.

“Tell me to stop and I will.”

“Stop and I kill you,” she retorted, and he grinned again. He could feel the warmth between her thighs, a heat that had already begun to grow, the faint hint of moisture when he slid his fingers along her. He kissed her breasts again, savoring the sounds she made as he lavished attention on them. When he dipped one finger into her, Sonya cried out and jerked into him, and he bit down gently on her nipple. She let out another cry and drove down onto his finger, pushing into him.

“Everything all right, General?”

“Swear to fucking God, Kenshi.” Her hand wriggled around him, stroking his cock several times, and he moaned and pushed into it. It felt good - almost _too_ good, sending his focus off of her and back onto himself. He took a long, deep breath to steady himself. Her hands worked to pull down his own clothes and make him more accessible to her; he let her, just for the moment of distraction from her touch. The air brushed against his skin, and he focused on it for a moment - cool and full of the smell of autumn, the smell of leaves slowly going dead and crisp, almost earthy. He dipped a second finger into her, circling them a knuckle deep inside the heat of her body, and she pushed down against him, grinding herself on his hand.

Her hands closed back on him, one wrapping around his cock. He moaned, lips pressed on the lower curve of her breast, and felt her satisfied chuckle. She gave a few strokes, and then a pleased sound when she brushed a finger over the crown and found it slick from his own desire. Her hand worked lazily a few more strokes, and he ran his thumb over her clit in the way he knew she liked, just enough pressure to make her push down on his hand, find more contact. He was sure he could feel every ripple in her body, every twitch of her muscles. He crooked his fingers and tilted them up, hunting along her inner wall for the little place that would make her lose the ability to wield her sharp tongue.

“Kenshi!” Sonya called out his name, loud enough that it startled him, and he grinned again with satisfaction as he pressed on that spot with his index finger. She moaned long and loud, working herself against his fingers. He could hear her heartbeat pounding, almost as rapidly as his own, and he used his tongue to trace a spiral around one breast, starting from her nipple and working his way out. Sonya’s hips drove her down and onto his hand, the sensations screaming through his body, knotting low in his groin.

Damn restraint. As satisfying as it was to hear and feel the composed General lose herself on his hand, he wanted other things. He made a hum of happiness against her breast, drawing the other nipple into his mouth. She rubbed herself against his hand, every motion sending sparks through him, the scent of her arousal growing heavier and thicker in the room. He rubbed her clit with his thumb, crooking his fingers against her inner walls again, and felt her quake beneath him, her breathing ragged. She pushed him onto his back, abandoning her grasp on his cock.

“You’re a fucking tease,” she swore at him, and he could hear the grin fighting to be on her face. He felt the warmth of her over him, and pulled his hand up to his mouth, licking her off his fingertips. She sucked in a breath and then settled over him, enough that he could feel the heat and moisture from her. He gripped her thighs with his hands, feeling her muscles shift under his palms and fingertips as she eased down, her weight settling him into the mattress.

They groaned simultaneously, then both laughed. It was good - the sensation of being inside her, heat embracing him as she moved herself down ever so slowly atop him. His hands slid upwards, holding onto her hips, and then over the soft curve of her belly as she eased herself down. She was beautiful, every inch of her muscle and bone and confidence. When she had settled herself down to the base on him, he let out a long exhalation. Sonya felt good, wrapped around him, every inch of him settled inside her.

She took over, controlling the movements up and down, and every single one of them worked his nerves and mind into overdrive. Her heart was pounding, breathing stumbling as she rose and fell atop him. His fingertips climbed up her body, catching her breasts again in his grasp, working his fingertips in spirals around them. She moaned loudly, and the end of her braid flicked side to side over her back and brushed his arm. Like a little paintbrush, bouncing against her back and occasionally him.

It was impossible not to touch her, and Kenshi reveled in having all of it at his fingertips. She wore so much of her personality as armor, everyone kept at a distance. Getting in beneath it was something he still counted a miracle. He worked his fingers over her gently, listened to every gasp and hiss she made, the quivering of her thighs and the way her hands caught his wrists to still his movements for a time. He let her. He focused instead on how easily they moved together, how her body took him in, and seemed reluctant to let him go, every withdrawal meeting with a faint, tiny, almost inaudible whine from Sonya. He doubted she even knew she made it; it was something special, something his. How good she felt, familiar, and yet every bit of her drawing pleasure out of him as if it was the first time. Her sounds, her movements, her smell, all of it combining into an irresistible package.

He felt her movements switch, the up-and-down moving towards more of a grinding motion. He tipped his knees up and felt her lean back against them as he changed his own movements. He tugged one hand free and trailed it down over her body, thumb tucking itself over her clit. She shuddered; he could feel her ripple everywhere their bodies were in contact. His own breathing began to hitch, the warmth and snug fit of her around him pushing him over. He groaned again, hands sliding down to her hips, figuring out a balance of rhythm and position as she shifted again. His thumb slid back between them, hips working his cock in and out of her, trying to restrain himself.

It was impossible - for someone who kept himself so covered, protecting his senses, this was torment. Everything was focused on sensation, and everything felt overwhelmingly good. She knew how to work him, playing him like a fine instrument. He felt his body bowing, the rush of heat and pleasure through him, and redoubled his finger’s efforts on her clit, thrusting up into her more.

“Kenshi,” she choked out, and it was tight and almost strangled.

“Sounds like you’re having difficulties. Need to take a break?”

“I will kill you,” she swore, and he pushed down harder, rubbing in circles, feeling her push down against him greedily. “Don’t stop. Fuck, don’t stop.”

“Always happy to obey the General’s orders.” He felt the aching disappointment as she rose up to the point that he was almost wholly out of her. Her payback to his teasing was swift and sure. She dropped back down onto him and he moaned as she gasped, and she began to convulse around him. He kept his thumb on her clit and brought his other hand up to cup and squeeze one breast, and then the other. She cried out loudly and he felt her weight sag against him, the low exultant moan from her throat as good as the feeling of her around him.

It took pure determination to keep from following immediately, and he only managed to hold out for a few more thrusts until he grabbed her hips and the curve of her ass, holding her still as she rippled around him. He felt the burst of orgasm, hips stuttering into her, her walls clinging to him and taking him for all he was worth. She dropped down over him, arms on either side of him and her head on his chest, letting out a happy sound. He reached up with one hand to stroke her back, marking the curve of her spine with his fingers.

“What is it with you and my tits today?”

“They’re there, and I don’t get to appreciate them nearly as much as everyone else does.” He grunted at the halfhearted punch into his shoulder. “That was unfair. I had no means of escape.”

“As if you would if you could.” Her voice was low and husky with satisfaction, and her mouth closed on his neck, working its way up along to his mouth. She was warm and relaxed, the tension in her body gone. “You’ve had years to make up excuses and escape, and we always end up like this.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“Only complaint is that we don’t do it more often.”

“Call in sick.” He knew she never would, not unless she was dying. “My boss hasn’t thrown me any new assignments, there’s always the chance she’ll be kind and won’t miss me if I stay here all day with you. Who knows when she’ll have something new and send me off to go infiltrate some new portion of the dark underbelly of the world.” He could easily fall back to sleep, with her in his arms, the warmth of the bed and the smell of her all over his skin.

“Tempting, but there’s work to do, and I’m the only one who can do it.” She sighed, that resigned tone that he knew, and they’d never managed to come to terms with; he was grateful she let him help as much as he did, but she needed to ease off her deathgrip on control. “Though I’ve got this consultant who sometimes manages to pull his weight. Maybe if he comes in and does some PT with my idiot plebes, I’ll be able to get home early tonight. Won’t go for the MREs in my bottom drawer.” She shifted and he felt the tip of her chin on his chest, the sweep of her fingertips through his hair and along his cheek. “Physical assessments and squad reorganization on the docket today. Think you’re up for knocking some people on their asses?”

“Always.” He cupped her ass in his hands and squeezed, and she laughed, the vibrations skittering across his skin, almost echoing in his chest. “I’ve already won this morning, so I won’t even demand a match with you in the training rooms.”

“ _You_ won?” Sonya’s voice was scoffing, tone full of disbelief, as she tucked her head up in the curve of his neck. “From where I am, I think I came out on top.”

“Technically correct."

“The best kind.”


End file.
